


In Other Words . . .

by IAmNotSam



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Carmilla and Laura Being Super Cute, F/F, Lilies and Boobies, Mild Smut, Romantic Fluff, domesticated!Hollstein
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3793591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmNotSam/pseuds/IAmNotSam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura Hollis knows exactly what her girlfriend loves coming home to: </p><p>(1) lilies </p><p>and (2) her boobies.</p><p>Warning: Truckloads of fluff!</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Other Words . . .

 

I heard the sound of a key inserting into the doorknob, Carmilla’s soft grunt of exhaustion, the opening of the door. I was huddled under the covers, anxious for my girlfriend to come to me. I had just woken up from an afternoon nap that had apparently stretched until darkness. Carmilla stripped off her clothes, leaving her in just her underwear, slipped on a loose black tank top and climbed in our conjoined beds, then wrapped her arms around me.

“How’s your day?” I asked.

“Don’t talk,” she murmured, her lips against my nape. “Hug me.”

That I could do. Willingly. I was glad, too, that she felt the need to cuddle because I felt it like a stirring of my soul. Moving silkily beneath the blankets, I curled my bare limbs against hers. I had baby blue girl boxers on and wore an oversized T-shirt that Carmilla’s warm hands pulled off me. Her mouth touched the flesh at the base of my neck, her tongue circling the skin over and over again, as if she couldn’t bear to move on.

Then she rolled on top of me and sat up to straddle me. Her hands moved to my abdomen, paused. I didn’t know what was going on in her head. But I felt like all the love and desire she had for me was mirrored through her twinkling, blazing dark brown eyes that were fixed on my face. It was as if she were treating herself to a visual feast.

My brows wrinkled in query as I stared up at my beautiful roommate through the darkness. “Carm?”

Suddenly she lowered her head and moved her lips slowly across the smooth, taut hollow of my stomach. “I love it that you’re mine, cupcake,” she said, kissing the supple skin. “I just love it that you’re mine.”

I smiled, and reached up to slip my hands under her top and run them along her back. Back and forth, lovingly.

She kissed her way up to my mouth and made love to it. “I missed you.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, half amused and half bewildered by her sudden oddness. “We were just apart for less than eight hours, Carmilla. Since when did you become the clingy one?”

“I know. It makes me cringe,” she murmured against the velvet spot beneath my ear. “But I missed you a lot. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said, my hands caressing their way down to rest on her hips.

Carmilla sat up again and her gaze lingered on my exposed chest. “Has anyone ever told you you have really cute boobies, cupcake?” she said teasingly. “Cute with a capital Q.” She ducked her head to blaze a trail of kisses around my chest, and I giggled because it felt ticklish.

“And yours are worthy of _Ripley’s Believe It or Not_ ,” I added.

She laughed into the valley between my breasts where she was kissing. Lifting her head, something caught her attention. Her eyes widened with delighted surprise.

“Oh, Laura,” she gasped, staring at a vase holding a bunch of white calla lilies behind the lamp. “Did you get those for me?”

“No,” I said dryly. “They’re for Miss Cornelia mopping the floor outside. She cleaned my little milk spill in the hallway.” I let out a snort chuckle. “Of course, they’re for you, Carm.”

Carmilla let out a laugh, then she pressed her lips onto mine. “And since when did you become the sarcastic one?” She lifted her head to gaze at the flowers again and reached for a stem. “Aww . . . this is just so romantic, cupcake.” She took a long whiff of its scent then put it back into the vase. “These lovely lilies totally made my day. And your cute boobies. The lilies and your boobies.” She giggled, and I scowled at her.

When Carmilla rolled off of me, I snatched up my shirt. “Are you done marveling at my cute boobies?”

She nodded, chuckling. Without further ado, I sat up and slipped my shirt on again. It was just oddly cold in the room, and for some bizarre reason, it felt so weird being the only half-naked one in the room. The darkness inside the room only made the atmosphere seem chillier so I switched the lamp on.

Carmilla rested her head against the pillows, and I curled up beside her. And automatically she put her arms around me. For some reason we wound up that way a lot.

Feeling so much warmer now, I lifted my head to gaze up at her. She was looking silently at the ceiling. “Is everything all right, Carm?”

Her fingers were skimming along my spine. “Not really,” she mumbled. “It’s just a stressful day. My new Development Economics professor is from hell.”

“Then tell him he can go back and fuck himself in hell,” I said, and Carmilla laughed at my futile attempt at sounding like a badass. “How about a back rub?” I offered, now sounding sweet.

Carmilla smiled. “Yes, please.” She rolled over and lay flat on the bed on her stomach. I sat lightly on her butt, straddling her. With her help, I took her top off, then started rubbing her shoulders. I unfastened the hooks of her bra then kneaded my way down her back.

“How’s that?” I asked, while my thumbs sank into her back.

She let out a blissful moan. “Mmm. Good.”

I rubbed her arms, working down to her hands, which were warm and smooth.

“My adviser asked me to be his research assistant and grader, by the way,” Carmilla informed me.

“Okay. What does that work entail?” I asked, now massaging her lower back.

She tucked her arms under my yellow pillow. “Just involves extra reading with reports back to him. Oral reports, not written. So it’s not much of a hassle. He has five classes of forty or more students.”

I paused mid-motion to which she quickly added, “It’s only two nights a week. Three hours max.”

“Any particular reason why he picked you?”

“I am his best student,” she said simply. “You know that. I’m always the best.”

When I didn’t reply, Carmilla lifted her head and looked behind her at me. “If it bothers you so much, cutie, I could decline.”

“No,” I said. “If it’s strictly a business arrangement then . . . no objection, your Honour.”

“Laura, the guy’s forty-something, with a double-chin, married, has two kids already. And he has a cock,” she pointed out.

I smirked then. “Okay, okay. Point taken.” Then I added with a pouty face, “I’m just worried I’ll miss you more. You know very well how clingy of a girlfriend I am.”

She let out a chuckle. “Oh I know.”

I kissed my way up her pale butter-soft skin before drawing back, refastening the hooks of her bra, and plopping down on my back beside her on the bed. I sank back into the deep, soft pillows, turned my head to the side to look at my girlfriend.

Placing one arm over my chest, Carmilla let out a contented sigh. “I love home.”

I let my eyes close for a moment and smiled. “Yeah, this dorm room gets 7 stars for its cosiness,” I said, grazing the arm she had thrown over me. “And this bed is beyond compare.”

“I meant _you_ , Laura,” I heard her say softly. “You. My home.”

I opened my eyes and looked at Carmilla, again. My smile bloomed not just from the bone-melting effect of her words, but also because of the tantalising sight. So strikingly beautiful, I was seized with an urge to kiss away all her strain, all her troubles. And so I leant in to place a soft, soothing kiss on her lips. Another blissful little sigh from Carmilla revealed that I was somewhat successful.

“Carm, are you happy here?” I asked quietly, tracing her arm with a gentle finger.

Her brows creased, and she let out a snort of chuckle. “What kind of a question is that, cupcake?”

“I mean,” I said, “is this how you saw yourself five years ago?”

She paused for a while to think. “No. Not really,” she said at length. “Five years ago, I was sure—all right—I was sure I’d be away from home,” she said. “You know, just living the untroubled nomadic life. I dreamt of sailing off to some deserted island, or go travelling around the world and setting up orphanages.”

“Alone?”

“I did consider that, yes,” she said. “But then I thought, why not share the fun if the right globetrotter comes along, right? So I knew I would be doing all sorts of adventures—with the right person.”

“With the right person,” I quietly echoed, then my eyes strayed from hers to the ceiling.

“Yes, with the right person,” Carmilla said, placing a finger under my chin for me to meet her eyes. “In other words, you, Laura Hollis.”

The corners of my mouth twitched with an answering smile. I was falling into her sincere brown-eyed gaze, her sensitive soul, her lips where unexpected syrupy words escape from time to time, and suddenly time begins to lose its grasp. It was always like this with Carmilla. Only with Carmilla.

“It would be nice, yeah?” she said with a dreamy smile. “Now I’m thinking of you and me getting shipwrecked together during a storm, swimming to shore, healing each other’s wounds with local herbs, building a little hut in the middle of nowhere, starting our own civilisation and all the love blossoming between us.”

I found myself picturing such a moment. Carmilla and I. Girl and girl, taking refuge against the thunder, the lightning, the water rising in gargantuan waves, swept away by their feelings. Carmilla continued to look into my eyes, to explore my face with her gaze, and I held it. It was almost a caress. A wave of giddy dizziness washed over me.

“I would be up for the globetrotting sort of adventure,” I said easily. “There are faraway places I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing. It’s up there on my bucket list.”

“Sounds fun, yeah? To go around the world. Hit all continents. Pack light. One pair of really comfortable walking shoes . . .”

“Sounds really awesome,” I said with a smile. “And the putting up of orphanages—that part was good. I love kids. But just the being castaways and staying on a deserted island kind of worries me a bit. I think I have to prepare myself for all of that—the rubbing two sticks together, building a hut, catching fish or hunting for wild boars, climbing coconut trees, and the grilling. Especially the grilling.”

“You don’t have to worry about any of those, cupcake,” she said cockily, with a wink. “You got me—Lady Knight Karnstein, Master of All Trades, remember?” She snagged my pinky finger with her pinky finger and linked them, and I smiled at the sweetness of her gesture.

“What about your plan to go to Africa and help out with your family’s child aid projects?” I asked. “What happened with that?”

“Well, I could always do that whenever I want to,” she answered. “It’s a continuous thing, you see. It goes on and on as long as there are sponsors and volunteers.”

“But don’t you think they need you there? I mean, your mom’s there. And now your brother Will . . .”

Carmilla lifted our linked pinkies and kissed mine. “I’m here to be with you. I just want to be with you. I don’t need to be anywhere else. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

Her words made my heart melt, but I had to ask, “And you suppose this is where you belong?”

“You make your own sense of belonging, Laura,” she said, her soft and steady gaze on mine suggested her sincerity. “You can feel at home anywhere if you’re at peace with yourself and if you’re with someone whom you consider your shelter—shelter from all the shitty things going on in your life. When you could take refuge in someone. When you feel safe and sound in their arms.” She lifted her other hand to cup my face. “You are my home, Laura. You’re my sweet safe haven. And you have my heart,” she said with a tender smile. “So to answer your first question: Yes. I’m happy here, cupcake. Very much so.”

I looked at her dumbfounded for a moment. Who was this girl who seemed to make me feel all these tremendous emotions all at the same time? Whom I felt like the only person who could make me feel this happy, this complete? Who was so heart-stoppingly beautiful that I was ready to give up everything but a single measly pair of Chuck Taylors and hop the next freighter to travel the world and set up orphanages with?

I blinked. “How’d you get to be so . . . clever?”

“Age,” she said dryly. “I am older than you. I think I’m some wise old lady.”

Too beautiful for a wise old lady, I thought. Too bloody beautiful.

I gave her a mock hard stare. “If you’re thinking being seven months older makes you the boss, forget it.”

Carmilla only laughed at my statement. And I’d give away all kingdoms just to hear her laugh. Then when she sobered, she took her turn. “What about you, cupcake?” she asked softly, running her fingers through my dirty blonde waves. “Is this how you saw yourself five years ago?”

“Nope. Very far from it, actually,” I answered, gazing at the ceiling as I recalled. “I was convinced I’d be stuck in Canada with my dad, living my humdrum life. Aunt Lydia would probably be setting me up on dates with her friends’ eligible daughters or some young local pastry chef. And I’d simply be working on what I used to plan my life around for many years. I was so dedicated, so enthusiastic at the time, you know.”

“So you never really felt at some point like you were losing touch with yourself?”

“I would pretend I wasn’t,” I admitted, running a finger mindlessly along the pyramid-shaped studs of Carmilla’s silver bracelet. “In the back of my mind, I knew I could work my way toward that goal and still suffer in the end. But it was just so much easier to imagine my life like that because it wasn’t uncertain, you know. Because it was convenient. I suppose the thought of probably being unhappy had been lurking in my mind for a while then, and I’d never before let down my guard enough for it to surface until I came here to Silas U and broke free.”

Carmilla nodded. “Like the lid to Pandora’s box unexpectedly flying open and having the ugly truth pop out.”

“Exactly. I dreaded it,” I said with a sigh. “There was even a moment when I thought if I get jaded, I could chuck it altogether and just sell sno-cones at a theme park,” I went on, making Carmilla chuckle. “It was, you know, one of those thoughts that were so frightening you’re afraid to say them out loud.”

Carmilla rolled over to her stomach and propped her chin up with her fist. “Now you make me think, Laura Hollis,” she said. “A little more conversation, a little less action.”

I turned gently to my side, pulling her close to me, enjoying the feel of her warm bra-clad upper body. “Why? Can’t you have a little more of both?”

Pursing her lips, she gazed at me through narrow lids. “Hm. That could wait ‘til later, creampuff,” she said, untangling herself from me. “I’ll go get some groceries. You want Chokoa Crunch this week, yeah?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know. I’m older than you. I don’t _have to_ do anything.”

She said it so deadpan that I didn’t realise for a moment that she was teasing. When I did, I couldn’t help laughing out loud. She looked at me then, and I saw that glint in her eyes. She might be a bit nonchalant, but a devilish sense of humour lurked behind the cool exterior.

Along with a passionate fire that was hidden even deeper. A fire that had, from what I could see, surprised even her. And I couldn’t deny how that made me feel, to think she’d never felt that way before, that it was me, and my touch, and my kisses, that had startled her own response.

“—might be receiving desperate messages from him again.”

With an effort, I quashed my unruly thoughts and my body’s response to them, and tuned back in to what she was saying.

“Desperate?” I asked, hoping the fact that I’d just zoned out and was giving her heart eyes wasn’t obvious.

“Yes, I know, right?” she said, crawling off the bed and putting her top back on. “Before, my brother’s idiotic best friend is dangerous and now he’s desperate. So he’s dangerously desperate. The Interpol should put him on their blacklist or something.”

I watched her grab her iPhone from the desk and saw her jump a little at the sudden ringing of a FaceTime call. She looked down at the phone screen and a scowl broke into her face right away when she saw the caller’s name. “Oh, Jesus Christ, you must be having a laugh.”

My brows rose. “Kirsch?”

“The one and only,” she said wryly. With her phone in her hand, she moved back to the bed and sat against the headboard. I reared up and sat beside her. She placed the phone on her lap and only stared at the screen as the ringing went on.

“Answer it, then,” I nudged her.

“No,” she said. “This is unnecessary hypertension.”

“C’mon,” I prodded. “I’d like to hear what nonsense he’s got this time.”

“No, Laura,” she said, looking at me. “You might think this is a joke but the last convo Kirsch and I had did bother me for quite a while. He practically begged me to join him and his Zeta bros in a Sally Slapsgiving game.”

An amused smirk curled my lip. “C’mon, Carm. Answer it. It can’t be that bad.”

The phone began a second insistent ringing. Before Carmilla could decline, I pressed the green _Answer_ button.

Kirsch’s face appeared on the screen, snickering. “Hi, Carmilla. Thanks for answering,” he sang out, and Carmilla rolled her eyes in response. “Hi, Little Nerd Hottie. I know you’re there,” he added expectantly, wriggling his brows.

I popped my head to the camera’s range and flashed the guy a big, fake smile. He laughed harder.

Carmilla stared at the lad. “Kirsch,” she said in a serious tone, “if you think this—incessant calling and sending me stupid memes—is some sort of a nice, little pastime for you, quit it, all right? I hate to break it to you, but I am not Will. I am not your ‘Bro’. Do I look like a fucking clown to you?”

“No. Not at all,” he said, trying to sound as earnest as possible. “You’re involved in this, Hottie.”

“I’m involved?” Carmilla repeated blankly.

He nodded. “Yes.”

Carmilla’s expression then turned severe. “I thought I made it clear that I don’t want any part in your idiotic little businesses, Brody Kirsch.”

“This is about my unpromising future,” Kirsch said. “With my potential wife. With our unborn kids. With our happily ever after.”

Carmilla threw her hands in the air. “Which has every-fucking-thing to do with me. Oh, now I understand!”

“I’m getting to that part,” Kirsch said slowly.

Carmilla’s message inbox sounded with a new iMessage alert. She opened it and found out it was from—none other than—Kirsch. A few image files were sent.

“Okay,” Carmilla began, turning her attention back to Kirsch, “I’m completely and utterly baffled. This bafflement could easily morph into unbelievable fury at any moment. So I would really like an explanation for all of this now.”

“It’s like this,” Kirsch said briskly. “So a couple of hours ago I saw a bunch of my Zeta bros going wild over something at the quad. I went over to them to see the source of the chaos. I was ecstatic when I heard it was the _Summer Society Spotlight_ Summer issue ‘cos you know what that means, right? Scantily clad sorority chicks! And I became even more ecstatic when I saw who the cover girl is.”

“Kindly cut to the chase,” Carmilla said, her irritation rising.

“And then I snatched the magazine from them,” he added, “and stumbled across an article that really got me confused and broke my heart.” He placed a hand dramatically over his chest and made a sad face. “It really tore my heart into tiny pieces, you hotties.”

When Carmilla looked at me for help, I said sharply to the puppy-looking tall guy, “For the love of God, Kirsch. Get to it quickly.”

“All right, all right,” Kirsch said. “Danny’s gay. The love of my life, Hottie Danny Lawrence, is playing for your team. I mean, how could she?”

“What?” My brows came together in question. “I mean, how did you—?”

“Check out the photos I sent you and all will make sense,” Kirsch said. “I also posted there some helpful links.”

We opened the image files. One was Danny posing solo in a sexy green two-piece bikini. The other one was the tall girl posing very intimately with one of her sorority sisters. The last one was the magazine article of her proclaiming she’s a full-on lesbian.

My hand flew to my mouth at once. “Oh, my God. Danny,” I gasped, staring incredulously at the front cover of _Summer Society Spotlight_. And Carmilla next to me was only smirking.

I mean, a lot of our closest friends like Perry and LaFontaine knew about our tall ginger friend’s sexual preference but I never would have guessed Danny would do something as bold as this to make it public.

“Yes. Oh, my God, right?” Kirsch said with a scoff. “I mean, who does she think she is stringing me along after all this time just to slap me with this without warning?”

Carmilla looked him dead in the eye. “Kirsch—”

“No,” he said stubbornly. “She broke my heart, you guys. I thought we had something special. Her being gay means she rejected me.”

“She rejected a whole population,” Carmilla corrected him. “Not just you, you numbnuts.”

“She used me. She led me on. All I did was love her,” Kirsch said, looking genuinely hurt.

“Kirsch, you and Danny were never together,” I pointed out. “You aren’t even, like, _in good terms_ friends. You annoy her like hell.”

“I know. But she’s the hottie I was gonna marry. What about that eternity?” Kirsch’s eyes were starting to well up with tears. And I swallowed a laugh at the sight of our wounded friend, making Carmilla pinch my thigh.

Carmilla regarded Kirsch with unusual compassion. “Beefcake, it’s not the end of the world and Danny’s not the last chick on earth. Soon you will find the right girl for you, okay?” she said, her tone surprisingly sympathetic. “We knew about Danny and how much she hates the dick and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you before. And we’re sorry we know how much you like her.”

“Love,” Kirsch corrected, sniffling.

“Okay. If you say so,” Carmilla said patiently. “But you have to start moving on, Kirsch.”

Kirsch’s face fell even more but he nodded. “Thanks, Carmilla. I know Will is in Africa miles away right now being a superhero and all, but you’re a pretty decent substitute Bro.”

I knew my girlfriend was trying not to roll her eyes at this point. “Thanks,” she said. “Now, if you don’t need anything else, can we just talk some other time? I have a bitch of a headache right now.”

But Kirsch wasn’t done. “There’s one more thing . . .”

Bringing our gazes back to our tall friend, we saw his frown break into a wicked grin.

“This is the part where I need your expertise,” he went on. “Since I know you’re notorious for converting your straight study buddies, Carmilla. Do you think it’s possible to convert Danny to—?”                                                                                                          

Impulsively I pushed the _End Call_ red button on Carmilla’s phone, not letting Kirsch to even finish his question. “For God’s sake. That big fucking baby is hopeless!” I leant back against the headboard then massaged my temples.

Carmilla cocked her head at me, then burst out laughing.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Carmilla, this is not a laughing matter. Your brother’s best friend has a serious mental problem. It’s alarming.”

She laughed, then bit her lip. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, yeah?” I arched a brow.

“This is your fault, you know,” she said, trying to keep a straight face. “I told you not to answer his call, cutie. Look at you now.”

She fought the chuckles of amusement that shook her body and lost the battle. I gave in and laughed with her. We had a brief pillow duel after that.

“Let’s look at the photos again,” I said, after we’d sobered. “I wasn’t able to—”

“No.” Carmilla moved to crawl off the bed, hugging her mobile phone securely to her chest.

“Carmilla, c’mon,” I implored, tugging at the hem of her top. “Just a quick look.”

“No—!” she half-squealed, as I pulled her back down to the bed. We both fell into fits of laughter.

“I want to see,” I prodded, trapping her writhing body in my arms.

She gave me a friendly shove with her elbow. “You perve. You just want to look at Danny’s boobies, don’t you?” she said, making me laugh as we rolled on the bed.

Amazed that she could still be so naïve, I tried to take the phone from her. “I just want to see how far she’d gone.”

She twisted as I tickled her sides, but she kept hold of her phone. “No.”

Laughing, I snagged one of her hands and held it firmly. “Carmilla!”

Giggling helplessly, she reared up to try and free herself, but I pushed her back onto the bed and quickly sat on her legs to straddle her.

“C’mon, Carm,” I urged, reaching for her iPhone which she swiftly hid under the heap of pillows below her. It wasn’t really my intention to get the phone from her hands; I just wanted to hear her giggles which were pure honey to my ears.

“No! Laura!” The laughing protest ended on a strangled gasp as I pinned down her arms to the mattress.

Desire choked off laughter as soon as I caught sight of Carmilla’s sexy black satin bra partially revealed under her loose tank top. Her ivory skin looked beautiful in the soft lighting. Instant heat. Instant need. A fire directly licked along my nerves.

My gaze slid up to Carmilla’s mouth. Her lower lip just begged to be bitten. Here’s a fact: In my modified Land of Oz, Carmilla Karnstein got the part of the Wicked Witch of the West. I would have sold my blood to bite any part of Carmilla.

Before I even realised I was going to do it, I had leant over and was kissing her. Her hands slid up under my shirt, over my back, and I nearly lost it at the feel of her fingers caressing my bare skin. I went on kissing her, urgently, fiercely, the growing heat being fed by the little sounds of pleasure she made and the way she moved beneath me.

When Carmilla’s hands went to the back of my head, to match my eagerness, the heat inside me turned into a leaping blaze. I stroked my way up her ribs to the undersides of her breasts. With my mouth continuing its ardent, loving work, I let my hands slip under her bra and thrilled to the warm velvety texture of each full mound. I cupped them, tenderly touched them, and Carmilla’s breathing had become rapid. With maddening slowness, I kissed my way down to her chest, plucking at her skin softly with my lips, tasting her with my tongue. Then I kissed the lush, fragrant flesh with abandon, dropping fervent, damp kisses at random. When my mouth pushed the fabric down and fastened on a crest, a sound that was half sigh, half sob came out of her throat and she leant forward. She grabbed a handful of my hair as if frantically groping for a handhold to keep her on the world, to keep her from flying out into space as I suckled gently on a crest, laving her with my tongue.

Lifting my head, I watched as Carmilla clutched at air. “ _Ripley’s Believe It or Not_ material, indeed,” I husked, smiling against the black garment that had miraculously stayed in place.

“Oh, Jesus, Laura,” she gasped softly. Her head lolled on the pillow even as her chest heaved with gasping breaths. She blinked against the lamplight until I shaded her face with my head.

“Okay, okay—God, I can’t breathe.” She tried again. “Okay, okay, I give. We’ll look at it together.”

I grinned then dropped hot kisses on her lips. Carmilla levered herself up so that we sat, facing each other. She straightened her tank top, then looked back at me, clearly washed with the previous fire. We exchanged a goofy grin, then a giggle.

“I knew it.” I pinched her chin lightly between my fingers. “Seven months doesn’t make you the boss around here.”

“Shut up.” She batted my hand away, and I laughed victoriously.

We sprawled back down on the bed, lying on our stomachs together, and Carmilla finally unlocked her iPhone. I zoomed in on the photo to read the feature on Danny as Carmilla and I started to play footsie. It had become a custom for the two of us that whenever we’re on the bed—watching or reading something together—we would just stroke each other’s foot.

Carmilla only let out cute-sounding derisive snorts as I read aloud some bits that I thought were interesting.

After I had finished reading the article, Carmilla grabbed her phone. “I should head off to the supermarket. What do you want for dinner, cupcake?”

“You,” I answered, grinning naughtily. “With whipped cream on top.”

Carmilla’s expression was severe. “Laura.”

“Just stay here,” I said cajolingly, trapping her with my leg.

“Seriously, cupcake,” she grunted as I held her captive, “the tofus are sold out by 7:30. What time is it?” She lifted her head to check out the clock on the bedside table, but I moved my head to block her view.

She scowled at me, and I said lightly, “You don’t need a clock to know the time, you know.” I snatched the clock from the table and dropped it down to the floor.

“Okay, you just sounded like my mom. She was a Gold Award girl scout back in the days,” Carmilla said, and I chuckled as an image of young Mrs. Karnstein in green uniform popped into my brain.

“Anyway,” I said, rolling over to face her again. “If you need to know the time, you can just check the garden outside. Carolus Linnaeus, this Swedish botanist, observed that some flowers open at certain times. Like dandelions between five and six in the morning.”

“And when do dandelions close?” she asked, half joking, and half impressed by my obscure knowledge.

I squinted in the lamplight and propped my head up with one hand. “You’re testing me, but don’t . . .” I was tracing invisible patterns on her arm with the other. “They close at eight or nine.”

Her gaze flew to the flowers on the bedside table. “How about the lilies?”

“The lilies open at seven or eight and close around six or seven.”

Carmilla raised her brows at me, genuinely in awe. “Wow. Now where did you learn all this, missy?”

I leant in and kissed her lips. “Seven months doesn’t make you the Yoda here.”

“Master Yoda, I am certainly not,” she said, putting on a heavy guttural voice exactly like Yoda’s. “I will adore you until the sun neither rises in the morning, nor sets in the evening as you lay your perfect cheek upon your yellow pillow for slumber—usually after watching _Doctor Who_ or _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and spending 8-11 minutes in the bathroom to clean the shower drain I had clogged with hair, but I am certain.”

I cracked up at the hilarity, tears in my eyes, then gave the gorgeous girl next to me sweet, giggle-filled kisses. _God, I have the funniest and sweetest girlfriend._ “But your astronomical knowledge is extraordinary,” I pointed out after I had sobered.

“Speaking of which . . .” she said, “You know, flower girl, you can use the moon to tell time, too.” I moved my head toward hers so we were nose to nose. “The moon—it’s highest at midnight . . .”

“Like a lot of wild teenagers,” I quipped, and she laughed and pinched my nose.

“I gotta go before this pillow talk becomes even more ludicrous.” Carmilla rolled off the bed and got to her feet. I started up after her, but she turned, pointing at me. “Stay here.” I did. She walked behind me, lifted my long dirty blonde hair and kissed the nape of my neck. “I knew it,” she said smugly. “I _am_ the boss.”

Then, as she drew back and turned to leave, she reached out and touched my chin with her fingertips. “Behave properly while I’m gone, ‘kay, Baby Laura?”

As she moved to the closet to yank on her black leather pants, I called after her, “Cougar. In other words, _you_.”

“Nice one,” she said with a little laugh. “Crybaby. In other words, _you_ , cupcake.”

“Cradle robber,” I shot back.

“Childish hobbit.”

“Dirty old woman.”

The last comeback made her wince and look at me, slightly open-mouthed for a moment. Her expression made me smirk triumphantly. Then slowly, menacingly, her brows rose up. “I’m gonna get you for this, Little Hollis.”

I grinned, truly excited for her payback. “Can’t wait, Aunt Carmilla,” I teased in a little girl’s voice. “Could you bwing me some whipped cweam too?” I wiggled my brows suggestively.

Smiling in amusement, Carmilla grabbed her wallet and bicycle key from the desk. “Don’t go anywhere, you naughty little girl. I’m gonna show you _dirty_ later.” Then she took her red flannel shirt from the couch and turned toward the door.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and gazed at my girlfriend as she got busy putting on her combat boots. I simply wanted to revel in what Carmilla and I had found, that incredible fire, but I couldn’t help wondering what would happen in the future. Walking away from such incredible passion, something I’d never thought to find for myself, seemed impossible. But so did the idea of my boring and organised world ever melding with Carmilla’s rough and tumble existence. But reflecting on what we have now, it was unquestionable that we just seem to . . . _fit_.

Carmilla was my life now. I tried to picture myself being somewhere else—not even in Styria, necessarily, just anywhere without Carmilla. But picturing myself to that life now, never seeing Carmilla again, never seeing the flashes of sharp wit dart from behind that blasé mask, never seeing that sexy lip-biting only she could perfectly pull off, never hearing that melodic giggle again, never experiencing the magic that her fingers wove, never having another night just like we’d always had . . . It made me ache inside. It was another thought that was so frightening I was afraid to say it out loud.

“Wait!” I got to my feet, made my way toward her, held her close, and planted a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. But when I gave her another one, she pulled back.

“As much as I would love to play around some more, cutie, I’m leaving,” she said.

I kissed her neck, her cheek, her lips. But Carmilla stood her ground. I let out a chuckle, but she remained expressionless.

Reading her stoicism, I sighed. “Oh, Carmilla,” I said with real suffering. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Stay here,” she told me again, and spun on her heel but not before leaving me with a knee-trembling wink and an electrifying line: “I’ll come back with some whipped cream.”

Smiling to myself, I watched as the door shut closed behind her.

I will stay. Of course. 

Here dwells my happiness. My home. My heart.

In other words, Carmilla Karnstein.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

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